The Day In Between
by Imogen74
Summary: Post Infinity War. This will be a five or six chapter story detailing the day immediately following the events of "Infinity War." Romanogers.
1. Chapter 1

"Oh my god."

No one knew exactly what had happened. But the disappearance of sound made everyone think that the end of the world had descended upon Wakanda.

Steve Rodgers was kneeling. He was thinking about what he had just witnessed. And thinking that it couldn't be real. It was not real.

His breath was hitching…he was hyperventilating.

"Steve…"

He shook his head. "No."

"Steve, come on," Bruce Banner's voice was next to him. "Let's go."

He swallowed, looking upwards.

It was a beautiful day.

* * *

He was sitting at a long table, listening to the others talk. It was a global catastrophe…it appeared as though billions had died.

No.

Disappeared.

"With all of the stones, Thanos wiped out half of the global population."

"No. Half of the universe," the raccoon said. "And I'm not a raccoon, whatever the hell that is."

Not a raccoon. "What's your name?"

The thing looked at Steve. "Rocket."

"I'm Steve. And I'm not an Avenger. I haven't been for a few years."

This stopped her. "What?" Natasha spoke for the first time since it happened. "Now isn't the time for this. What happened today was…"

"I need to go," he stood. "I…can't talk about it right now," he looked at Nat. "I understand that we can't just let this go. But I need…" he looked around at them. Bruce. Thor. Rocket. Rhodey. And they were waiting to hear from M'Baku, Shuri, and Okoye. "I need a few hours," and he walked away, into the royal palace.

* * *

Nat watched him go, then looked at Bruce. "We need to talk."

She watched him shift. "Ok."

She swallowed. "I think that we all could use a break for a bit. Let's try and relax for the night and think about all of this in the morning. We've all suffered a shock, and we can't be our best if we are numb and exhausted."

Rhodey nodded. "I won't argue with that," and he got up.

Thor sighed. "It's been a trying few weeks for me, I admit. I'll take a walk. See you in the morning," he left.

Rocket didn't say anything. He just left.

Natasha smiled.

"Your hair looks good that way."

She shrugged. "Thanks."

Bruce Banner dropped his gaze. "So…"

"So. I think that maybe I was being…presumptuous and silly."

"You …what?"

"You were right. And I …I was holding onto something that wasn't there. Grasping at straws. It's ok. I'm over all of it."

"You are?" his face betrayed his confusion. "But…"

"Bruce. Look. It's all fine. And we have the biggest job we've ever had in front of us. We can't try and sort something out that is not only doomed, but a fantasy."

Bruce Banner didn't respond right away. His head fell, and he nodded. "It's madness, Nat. All of it. From where we are coming from, to where we are going. And I…I don't think that it makes sense to confuse it."

"Don't worry. I'm not confused. Not anymore," and Natasha stood. "It's good to see you, Bruce," she smiled warmly at him.

* * *

Steve Rodgers was looking out into the great expanse of Wakanda. He was still shaking somewhat. He never had a reaction like that before. Not to _anything_.

But this was different.

He likely would never understand just how different it was.

He stood there, thinking about everything that he had just lost, and if it was even possible to get any of it back. Bucky. Sam.

He wanted to cry, but couldn't.

"Are you just gonna look at that window? I mean, it's a pretty nice window."

His gaze fell. "I was looking at the country on the other side."

Natasha went over to him, arms folded across her chest. "Yeah, well. If you like lush green landscapes with futuristic buildings…it's nice."

Steve looked at her. "Sorry I bailed."

"You needed a minute. I get it."

"No. More than that, Nat. I need a day or two. And even then…"

"What's up?" her brow furrowed.

He sighed.

"It's the beard, isn't it? You can't wear a beard in this heat," she smirked.

"No. It's no good. I …" he swallowed, looking into Natasha's verdant eyes. "I'm afraid. I've never been afraid before."

She worried her lip. "Steve…it's ok to be afraid. You're human. You…"

"It's not ok. I'm a soldier first, Nat. I'm the best soldier. If I lose my nerve…"

"You're beating yourself up. Today was terrifying. Maybe we take tomorrow. And then…we come up with a plan."

"There's no plan. There cannot _be_ a plan. This is so beyond…" and he looked out of the window again. "How do we fight this? How could we possibly get back what we've lost?"

Natasha swallowed. She didn't have the answers he was looking for.

Yet. "Let's take tomorrow. Let's just relax and have a drink. I mean, if there was ever any reason to drink, it's billions of people disappearing in seconds," she smiled.

He smiled a bit, too.

Encouraged, she continued. "So yeah. We have a day. Figure out what we can do with the people we have…and we…do it."

"So ….what? Bruce and Thor and you and me…we just hang out? Drink? Forget…?" his voice trailed.

"Something like that. Until we find out who's left. Or maybe just you and me… ok maybe Rocket the Raccoon. He seems like a partier."

"Who's left," he repeated, closing his eyes.

"There are people left, Steve. We are still here. Let's do something…" she touched his arm. "Let's take a short break, and then we get back to work, refreshed," she dropped her hand.

"I dunno," he sighed, looking back to Wakanda again. "Maybe you have a point."

"I always do. Ask Stark," and she backed away. "I'll see you in the morning, ok?"

He nodded, and, feeling somewhat defeated, looked after her. "One day. And if I feel the same way tomorrow at this time, I'm gonna need …" what would he need?

"A stiffer drink?" she smiled.

"Something. I'll need something," he turned away from her, wondering if he'd be able to sleep at all that night.


	2. Chapter 2

_So I lied. I'm going to split this into three or four parts, which means a total of 5 or 6 chapters. These two are actually a ton of fun._

* * *

 **Morning**

She woke up early, having had a wrought sleep. She had had vivid dreams of Africa, of water, and of the sky splitting in two.

Shuri had been found, but the King and Nakia were gone.

Natasha had gone to bed after Shuri was brought in.

And the rest of them…well. She didn't know. Thor had left the palace. Rhodey was in his room.

And Steve, she wasn't sure.

Nat got out of bed. Part of her was embarrassed about the thing with Bruce. She had been just so tired of being alone.

She had been so for years and years.

And with the Avengers, she had found a family of sorts. She loved all of them. So why not a romance with Bruce Banner?

She looked in the mirror and washed her face.

Because, she thought, she was trying to make something happen that wasn't there. Bruce had been right. Not because he was the Hulk…but maybe because he was Bruce Banner. They were not compatible. They were too different in the wrong ways. She saw all of this now with the distance his disappearance had afforded her.

And she thought about her family, as strange as the members were.

Clint was her best friend. But Steve, he was a close second.

She smiled.

He needed her now. Steve was alone, too. With Bucky gone, and with no plan how to get him back, he was hurting. She could help.

That's what friends do.

Nat got dressed into some jeans and a teeshirt. She slipped on sneakers and brushed her hair.

She liked the blonde. But maybe not as a permanent look. Just as …something different.

And she left, hoping that there would be breakfast somewhere.

* * *

Steve Rodgers swirled the coffee in his cup. What the hell were they gonna do?

He felt empty. Impotent. He thought that this was so far beyond his skill set…

And he closed his eyes.

What were his skills, exactly?

He could fight. He could lead soldiers.

But they weren't soldiers. And if this was a war, it was a war he had never, ever experienced in his almost ninety years.

He sipped his coffee.

The Wakandans were very nice to let them stay for a few days while they all got their heads on. Very hospitable. He smiled. There were some good things left, after all.

Maybe.

He closed his eyes…

"Want some company?"

And he looked up at Nat standing in front of him. He sat back, shrugging.

"Well, since you're so keen, I'll join you," and she sat across from him.

"Sorry Nat. Didn't sleep well."

"No. You look like shit."

He smiled weakly. "Well, I feel like it too."

Natasha poured herself some coffee. "It's our day off. In Africa. In a futuristic yet oddly beautifully tribal and culturally rich country. What do you want to do?"

He swallowed. "Not sure."

"Sounds like you're gonna be a ton of fun."

He looked sharply at her. "This is your idea."

"How often are we gonna get a day like this? And I think that we might have quite a time of it after today. So let's enjoy ourselves, hm? You're gonna have some fun if it kills me," she smiled.

"It might," and he smiled genuinely and wholly.

"Well, if a mad Titan can't, I guess partying with Captain America will have to," Natasha sat back, smiling back. "But I do have a question."

"What's that?" he downed his coffee.

"Are you going to shave that beard?"

He sighed. "Don't you like it?"

She scrunched her nose. "I mean…it's ok. But not for Africa. And we are going to be out all day…"

"Fine. I'll shave."

"Great. I'll wait here," she poured more coffee.

"You mean now?"

"No time like the present, Steve."

He rolled his eyes, but got up.

Steve went to his room and got out his razor. He didn't know why he had grown it to begin with, except maybe for a change.

Change.

He couldn't change.

He had been programmed, both by who he was and what they made him into…not to change. And he wanted it.

All of it.

But now, he wasn't so sure.

 _We don't trade lives._ Hadn't that been what he had done? He had given up the old Steve for Captain America.

The blade slid down his cheek, and he rinsed the razor.

What did he want?

He steadied himself on the sink.

He had absolutely no idea…and he closed his eyes.

* * *

"There you are," Natasha stood as Steve re-entered the kitchen. "I was just thinking about how bored I was looking at this state of the art kitchen, complete with touch screen assistant. What do you think eggs would taste like, if they were created by a computer?"

"Delicious," Shuri said from behind them.

"Your highness," Steve nodded, turning to face her. "I'm so sorry about your brother…everyone," he said softly.

"So am I. What are we going to do about it?"

Nat cleared her throat. "Princess, I think we are taking the day…" she looked covertly at Steve, whose eyes fell. "It's all been very overwhelming. Steve and I were about to use our day to explore your beautiful country."

"Just today?"

"Just today," Steve repeated.

"Very well, Avengers. But I'll be working. And we can talk tomorrow."

"Oh…I wanted to ask you," Natasha began. "All I have is American currency…"

Shuri smiled. "I'm not sure what markets will be open today after what happened, but just tell them to charge the Royal Palace," and she handed her a bracelet.

"Thank you," Natasha smiled broadly. "Ready, Steve?"

He nodded. "We will find them. Find out what happened. I promise…we won't let you down," he said to Shuri. And he suddenly longed to hug her.

"I believe you, Steve Rodgers. Now, go have your fun for today. I'll need you both at full capacity tomorrow."

Steve swallowed, then followed Nat out.

"You mean all that?" she sad to him.

"I meant that we'd find them. I don't know if we'll find them alive."

She shuddered, but said nothing.

* * *

They walked out into the Wakandan heat. "Told you it was hot," she said.

"Yeah. Right, as always."

"No…not always right. But I almost always have an answer," she smiled, then took his hand. "Come on."

They descended some stairs that led into the markets. There were a few places open, but it was sparse. Not many people out. Doors mostly shut. "Let's go to that cafe. It's open," she dropped his hand and walked over.

The cafe was cool inside. Dimly lit. And only a few tables were littered about.

They had comfortable chairs and it smelled wonderful.

They were the only customers.

Nat led Steve to the table by the window. "Force of habit," she said, sitting down.

"What do you mean?" he sat across from her.

"You know, being able to see who comes and goes…" she looked around, and a woman came to their table.

"What can we get for you?" she handed them phone-sized screens, and a menu appeared.

Nat looked at Steve. "What's your fancy?"

He scanned what he could in a short amount of time. "Can we just…can we share one of everything?" he suddenly realized he was starving.

The woman nodded and took their menus.

"One of everything? But what if I don't want to share?"

He smiled at her, and looked out of the window.

"This isn't like you, Steve. Come on now…"

"I'm sorry. I just…dunno if I'll be much company today," he looked back at her.

"S'kay. We're friends. Through the good and the bad. Mostly bad, though, I guess. If you think about it."

He looked at her. It was true. They, as Avengers, always come together in crisis. "We had some fun…with Sam…?" he was thinking about Scotland. "It was a good thing we did for Vision and Wanda."

"Love is important. Yeah."

He shifted. "What's going on with Banner?"

She smiled weakly. "It was no good. Just…he's just…"

"Kinda dorky?"

She laughed. "Nothing wrong with a dork, Steve Rodgers."

"Well, I wouldn't know."

"Noooo…" she smiled broadly. "I'm kinda embarrassed about that whole thing," she sipped some water.

"Don't be. It does no harm to try."

"Yeah. Except when it does."

Their food came…it was expansive…meats and breads, fruits, stuff that looked like hummus…"Thanks," Steve said, smiling at the server.

She nodded, handing them both a large plate.

"What do you mean, 'except when it does'?"

"Bruce is a strange guy. He probably thinks that I did it because of the Hulk. Because he thinks everything is about the Hulk," she bit into some fried meat. "It had nothing to do with the Hulk."

"No. What did it have to do with?"

"Him. We aren't compatible. And when I barely missed him for two years, I realized it."

Steve nodded, smoothing some of the spread onto the bread. "Better now than later."

She laughed. "Well, that much is obvious, Steve."

"Just trying to get you to see the bright side, Natasha. You've seemed so down," he winked at her. He was feeling better already.

"Right. Because I'm so prone to depression."

"The first step towards a cure is admitting there's a problem."

She wanted to throw something at him, but laughed instead. There was Steve. The Steve she knew and loved. "Still trying to keep up with pop psychology I see…" she smirked. "What about that Sharon girl? You haven't talked about her in months."

"Because there's nothing to say. If you don't see someone for months, talking about it won't make them suddenly appear, or make you feel better."

"You miss her?" she bit into some bread.

"Miss might be a bit of a stretch. I hardly know her."

Nat shrugged. "You should call."

"And say what? I don't even know if she survived…" he swallowed. "Yesterday."

She watched him closely. "Let's not talk about that yet, ok? Like, let's just enjoy today. We'll have our fill of that tomorrow."

Steve sighed. "Yeah."

"Do you…" she hesitated. "Do you _need_ to talk about it?"

"Need? Not exactly. I just can't stop, though. It's always there…and it just happened. And Bucky…" his voice cracked and failed him.

"I know how much you love him," she said softly.

"It's not even that. I feel oddly responsible for him."

"He's his own person, Steve."

He looked at her. "And that could have been me that was captured and tortured by HYDRA. It was dumb luck that I'm sitting here and he's not. That I'm Captain America," he rubbed his face.

Natasha licked her lips. "I'm sorry. I know that this is difficult."

"I almost hate myself. But I can't, because I can't afford to."

"Well, I hate myself. So that means you can hate yourself, too."

He looked at her. "Why?"

She smiled derisively. "During Ultron I told Bruce some of what happened to me in the Red Room. I never told anyone else, because I felt like he didn't…get it."

"What happened to you?" he poured her more water and gave her the bread he was working on.

"Like you, I was made into a machine. Except I was designed to kill. You were designed to save."

"Nat…"

"No it's true, and it's fine. They made us…not feel…we were numb to everything..." she couldn't find the right words. "We became monstrous in our methods and lack of conscience. I was superb. Didn't feel a thing."

"Torture?" he swallowed the word.

"Sure. That. And psychological abuse. And emotional," she paused. "I didn't need anyone. I was a spy…became whoever I needed to be," she paused, took a bite and swallowed. "Except myself."

"You're a great person, Natasha."

She smirked slightly. "Thanks, Captain America."

"Sounds disingenuous, I guess," he sat back.

"But it means something to me to hear it said. Even if I don't believe it."

"You are though. I've always known it."

She shook her head and looked out of the window. "I failed, though. I joined SHIELD and I became compromised. I care," she looked at Steve now, who was watching her closely. "About all of you."

"Because you're a good person."

"Sure," she shrugged.

"Nat. I'm sorry that you've been through all of that…it's awful. Being frozen in some ice really doesn't compare."

Nat swallowed. "I'm not telling you this for sympathy, Steve. I was created. Just like you. We are so similar, yet so very different."

"Yeah. I guess we are."

She smiled. "Finished here?"

He nodded.

"Great," and she motioned to pay for their food.

Steve watched as she smiled at the server, as she effortlessly spoke in the few words and phrases she had picked up while in Wakanda. She was brilliant person, that much was obvious.

He was grateful for her.

And gratitude can heal almost any wound.

Almost.

"Ready?" Nat was standing.

He nodded. "Where are we going?" and he stood.

"Who cares? Let's just _go_."


	3. Chapter 3

**Afternoon**

They walked through the sparse market, not really looking at anything. Natasha would brush her fingertips over fabrics…would glance at necklaces…and Steve was lost in his own thoughts.

"Not much of a shopper, are you?" she smiled at him.

"No not really…" he shrugged. "But I don't mind. It's good to be out," he breathed deeply. "I'm surprised you're a shopper, though."

"I'm not. But it can be fun to look around at things. Especially as a tourist," she walked into a shop on a corner, close to the edge of the market. It was one of the only ones open.

"I guess we are tourists, huh?" he said, following her inside.

"Look around, Rodgers. We are totally tourists," and she wrapped a scarf around her head. "Whaddya think?" she put her hands on her hips and posed.

He looked at her, smiled, and shook his head, scrunching his eyes up.

"You're not very good at this," she muttered, putting the scarf back.

He went over to a glass case where metallic jewelry was stationed. He mused over the collection, which was all lovely. "Hey Nat. Come here."

"What?" she walked up next to him.

"Now that I can see you in."

She glanced over to where he was pointing. There was a huge, black metal necklace with deep blue gems littered around the expanse. It was pointy and somewhat …monstrous. "What? Really?"

Steve followed her gaze. "Not the necklace. That ring."

And Nat looked at the ring sitting below the necklace. The ring was made of the same material, but there were etchings on it, and the swirls were the blue of the gems. "Oh," she said. It was actually beautiful. "It's really lovely."

He was looking at her now…

"Something for the lady?" the shopkeeper came over to them.

"No…we're just…" Nat began.

"Can we look at that ring?"

"Ah…the vibranium and star violet…"

"The what?" Steve asked, looking at the keep.

"Everything, well. Almost everything in the shop is vibranium," she handed Nat the ring. "It's the gems that create original pieces."

"Did you make this?" Natasha asked, slipping the ring on her right ring finger.

"Everything is hand made by me or a member of my…" she stopped, swallowing.

They both looked at her. "You lost people yesterday," Steve said.

The keep nodded. "My husband and daughter. I still have my son and youngest daughter…"

He dropped his gaze, looking at the ring on Nat's finger; Nat, who was staring at the keep steadily. "We'll take it," he said.

Natasha looked at him, brow furrowed. "That's not…"

"Lemme have that bracelet," he handed it to the keep. "I hope Shuri doesn't mind loaning me this money."

And the keep nodded, taking the bracelet and then, following the transaction, gave it back. "I hope that you can solve this," she said.

They left the shop. "You shouldn't have done that," said Nat, twirling the ring on her finger.

"Why not? It's beautiful. And we're friends. And …" he stopped. "I wanted to."

"What…?" she looked where he was looking.

Steve's gaze was fixed just beyond the market wall. "Let's go there."

Rolling hills were in the distance. Mountains. "Ok."

They walked through the market entrance and out into the meadow, neither green nor brown. The pair walked in silence for a bit; she could feel the soft earth through her sneakers, feel the sweat pearling her brow. Feel the ring on her finger.

She saw a farm nestled between two rises, about half a mile from where they were.

It was suddenly good to be alive.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"No idea."

"Steve," she took his hand.

He stopped and looked at her.

"I …think we need to stop. Maybe just sit here and drink it all in."

He nodded and sat where he stood.

Natasha sat next to him, rubbing her palms on her jeans. "What do you want out of life, Steve?"

He sighed. "Not much."

"Well, what's that?"

"I guess I want us to be safe."

"Us?"

"The team. Us…" he looked at her.

"No plans for a future?"

"I can't afford it. Maybe that's why there's no call to Sharon Carter."

"I have plans," Nat looked at the farm below.

"Oh yeah?"

She stretched out her legs in front of her and leaned back on her palms to her sides. "Yeah. I actually do."

"Is it a secret?"

She smiled. "Not really. I'd like a small place. Quiet. With a lake or something nearby. And I'd learn to really cook."

He laughed. "No way."

"What?" she smiled at him.

"You? Cook?"

"I know. Crazy dream."

He shook his head, still laughing. "No little spiders running around?"

Nat cleared her throat. She supposed it couldn't hurt to be completely open with him. Bruce knew. And Clint. "I can't have kids."

"What?" he asked softly.

"In the Red Room. They sterilized me. Makes everything much easier. No complicated emotions if I'd ever think of something other than a mission."

"Oh Nat…I'm sorry."

"I'm over it, you know. It's no big deal. Never really thought that I wanted kids anyway," she shrugged.

"Yeah. Kids aren't really ever a part of my daydreams either. I'm ninety, for God's sake."

And she laughed again. "Must be difficult…being a time traveler."

"Time traveler?"

"That's what you are, Steve. In a way."

He hadn't thought about it that way. "Do you really hate yourself, Nat?"

She felt a lump in her throat. "Sometimes."

"Don't," he took her hand in his own. "You're one of my best friends."

"Right after Bucky and Sam?" she smiled, noticing how close they were.

He shrugged, smiling back. "Well, after Bucky."

She laughed a touch, and found herself noticing his mouth…and he was looking at hers. Natasha took her hand away. "I wonder how Clint is."

He knew her meaning. "I'm sure he's fine. We'll find out tomorrow," and he pulled his eyes away from her and back to the farm.

She nodded.

"I'll…" what would he do? He wanted to promise her that he'd find him for her. That Bucky and Sam and all the others were fine.

But he couldn't do that, because he'd be lying. He had no idea if they were fine or not. That Clint was safe.

"What?" she looked at him once more.

"Nothing," he dropped his gaze. "Nat…"

"Hm?"

"Let's go back," and he stood, offering his hand to her.

Natasha took it. "You ok?"

"Fine. I'm fine," he pulled her to standing and turned to walk back into the city.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Let's get a drink," he said. "A stiff one," he added, and walked away from the scene.

* * *

It was after lunch by the time they found a place they could order a drink. Though neither were particularly hungry.

He ordered a whiskey on the rocks.

She ordered a dark beer.

Steve downed it.

"You weren't kidding," she said, sipping her beer.

"Never do things half-assed, Nat," he smiled, and motioned for another.

They were sitting in a booth at the back of the pub. It was strangely European for being in the middle of Wakanda.

"I never do, Steve," she curled a smirk. "I sense that there's something very specific that you want to talk about," she sat back.

"What gives you that idea?"

"Call it intuition."

He sighed. "Maybe there is."

She looked expectantly at him. "I might have intuition, Steve, but that's where it stops. Mind reading wasn't taught in the Red…"

"…Why did you stop it with Banner, really?" he interrupted.

"What?"

"I know what you told me. But it doesn't fit. You _knew_ him. Better than any of us. You knew him _before_ any of us…"

"I'm not sure I know what you're getting at," she played with her glass. "Are you saying that you think I'm in denial about why I stopped our young, practically nonexistent relationship, or that I wasn't telling you the truth? And if you think the latter, what's your theory?"

"I think both."

She cocked a brow. "You think I'm in denial _and_ lying? That's a low blow, Steve."

"Look. Normally, I don't care about this stuff. I barely care about my own nonexistent love life after Peggy…"

She blanched and looked down, into her lap.

"But…" he reached for her. "I care about you, Nat. I care about Bruce. I think that it could have worked if you weren't your own worst enemy," and pulled his hand back to him.

"You want me to be with Bruce Banner?"

"I want you to be honest with yourself. You gave up on him because of _you_ , not him."

She shifted.

"Maybe it's none of my business…"

She wanted to say that it wasn't, but she had confided in him, and he was one of her very best friends. "No. You're right," and she drank the rest of her beer, and yelled her request for another.

"I am?"

Natasha nodded.

"I didn't want to be," he said softly.

"Stop lying," she said just as softly as their second and third rounds came. "Ok. Here's the thing. I'm terrible at relationships."

Steve sat back. "So?"

"So. It makes being in one kinda hard."

"So you're a quitter."

"I'm practical. He wasn't into it. I wasn't fussed about him being gone for two years. It made sense."

Steve nodded. "How could he have not been into it?"

"I told you. The Hulk thing. He thinks he's not worthy or something," Nat paused. "Why are you asking me this?"

"I dunno. Just…" he _didn't_ know. He had been thinking about Nat and Bruce off and on all day. "Just looking for something happy, I guess."

"Well, me being in a happy relationship probably won't be happening. At least…no time soon."

"How come?" he downed the whiskey.

"Too involved with work."

He smiled at her. Work. "We should merge these…" he pointed at her beer and his whiskey.

"You mean…a boilermaker?" she replied coyly.

He cocked a brow. "If you aren't scared…"

"Can we have two more shots and two more of these?" she called to the tender. And she looked at Steve. "Never, never dare me, Rodgers."

They got their drinks and she dropped the shot glass into her beer. He did the same to his.

"Bottoms up!" she clinked their glasses together, and she downed the whole of it.

He finished his right after. "That's better."

She laughed. "We are gonna regret this, I think."

"Maybe…" he whispered, so softly she didn't hear him.

* * *

It was running along dinner by the time they left the pub.

"We should go and get Rocky," Nat laughed.

"Rock…" what was it? "You mean the squirrel?"

"The squirrel," she nodded.

"Nah," he said. "We need to go back. It's late."

"Come on Rodgers. Some partier."

"What? What else is there to do?"

Natasha looked around. "I dunno. We can find something…"

And Steve felt conflicted. Part of him wanted to go back, part didn't. It would mean the end of the day.

A day that had been wonderful and cathartic. And Natasha had done all of it.

For him.

"Yeah…" he began. And he heard music. "Dance."

"What?"

"Let's dance…" he took her hand.

"Steve…"

"Come on, Nat!"

She rolled her eyes, but followed. He didn't give her much of a choice. The place the music was issuing from wasn't far. And it was different…instruments they weren't used to. But Steve pulled her into the square right outside the restaurant that had the music. People were there, mostly drunk and appearing sad. The music was upbeat, though. And some were dancing.

"Dance with me," he said, pulling her closer.

"Steve," she whined a bit. "I really don't dance…"

"No time like the present."

She reluctantly fell into step with him as he twirled her around. "What are you doing?" she laughed.

"Dancing," and he swung her about.

"The Swing?" she laughed again.

"It's what I know," he said, somewhat offended.

"Ok ok," and she followed his lead.

It lasted another five minutes, and Natasha was winded. "That was great," she sardonically said.

"You loved it," he replied, following her to a chair just outside the restaurant.

"I'll need to teach you some other dances. Maybe then I'll feel better about dancing in public with you," she wiped her brow.

Steve slumped in the chair. "What time is it?"

She looked at her phone, the first time all day. "It's about five in the evening."

He nodded. "No messages?"

She shook her head. "I blocked everyone from bothering me until nine am tomorrow."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep," she slipped it back into her jean's pocket.

"You really were serious about it being just us."

"Surprised?"

He shrugged, looked at the ground. "Maybe a little."

"Steve. I thought you knew that you are important to me."

He nodded and looked at her. "I do."

"Then what's the big deal?"

"Nothing," but he looked at her quite steadily.

She flinched and looked away. "Maybe we could have dinner at the palace. Find a secluded spot."

"You think that's possible?"

"It could be, I bet," she stood. "Coming?"

He nodded, and stood.

And they noticed the amaranthine bleeding into the sky.


	4. Chapter 4

**Evening**

Natasha was in her room. She had needed to use the bathroom, and she was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking out into the falling dusk.

She wasn't very hungry, but Steve said he'd find Shuri and see if something simple could be made, or if they should help themselves.

She hadn't seen any of the team.

And she was uneasy.

Not because she hadn't seen the team, but because of something else, as yet unnamed. Natasha had been feeling odd since the afternoon, when Steve bought her the ring.

Not odd in a bad way.

But not necessarily good, either.

The ring was on the bed next to her. She had felt compelled to take it off.

And the reason was silly, but she felt better when she did.

She didn't _belong_ to him. And it felt like a promise, or a bond…something. It would have almost been better if he had gotten her that ugly necklace.

But he knew that she would never have worn it, or liked it.

Natasha sighed.

She loved Steve. She did. She loved most of the team…

Well. All of them, really.

Today felt different though. It felt intimate.

She wasn't sure if she was completely comfortable with that.

Natasha didn't do intimate. She was fine with being close with people…but intimacy…Mm…not so much.

Not sex. She had sex pretty much when she wanted and with who she wanted. That was fairly infrequent, but still. Sex was not a problem.

She leaned back.

Intimacy…that was. Intimacy, real bonding…that was not something she did. Clint was the only one.

And now, maybe Steve. She had told him about the Red Room. About her hopes and dreams…and she wasn't lying. She wasn't certain that she wanted to be compromised like that.

Even if he was one of her best friends.

Even if he was Captain America, and all things good and wholesome.

Even if he was gorgeous.

…and she could make him a bit less wholesome…

"Nat?"

She jumped and turned.

Shit. No one… _no one_ could sneak up on her.

"Hey…Rogers. Sorry. Lost in thought," she stood, smiling meekly, and felt the blush creep up her cheeks. She hated that it did.

"You ok?" he entered the room fully now.

"Mmhm. Yep," she cleared her throat, trying to regain composure. "Whadya find out?" her hands went into her back pockets.

"Shuri said that we could help ourselves to whatever. The cooks are home with their families…" his gaze wandered a bit. "You took the ring off."

"Oh! Yeah," she stood aside as he brushed past her, getting the ring. "I washed my hands and I was letting it dry."

He picked it up and held it a moment. "Don't you like it?"

"I love it," she honestly said.

"Well, here," and he took a step toward her and took her hand, slipping the ring back on. "It's like it was made for you," he looked at her, smiling, and dropping her hand.

"Yeah," she said softly. "So…shall we go and raid the fridge?"

"Sounds good," and he followed her out. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really. But after all that alcohol, I probably should eat something."

"Yeah. I was pretty drunk, but I drank some water. Feeling almost myself again," and they reached the kitchen. Steve opened the refrigerator. "So…there's a bunch of stuff here…" he started pulling out containers, fruits. "Maybe just a few things, and if we hate it, look for something else?" he was holding an oddly shaped pink fruit in one hand and a largish container in the other.

Nat nodded, then went and sat at the head of a long wooden table by the window.

And Steve came over with a few things, placed them on the table, and then got some plates and stuff. She opened a few containers, still shaken by her recent thoughts and being caught off guard.

"Sure you're ok?" he sat next to her.

"Steve, are you ever scared?"

This stopped him. He felt the emotion rise in his throat. "Sure I am. More than I'd ever admit."

"What scares you?" she put a few things on her plate.

"What scares me?" he sat back in the chair, and looked out of the window across from him. "I dunno. Loads of things."

"Wow. Captain America. Being scared of _loads of things_. Amazing you've survived," she smiled. "Can you be more specific?"

"I could. But I'm not sure I want the Black Widow inside my head," he was smiling, but there was a note of seriousness in his voice.

She considered him, sitting back and crossing her arms. "That's not fair, Steve. I'm the one with trust issues and I've been completely forthright and honest with you today."

He nodded. "You're right," and leaned into his plate, taking a bite of some curried chicken. "That's not fair," he sighed. "What scares me…" and he looked at the ceiling and rubbed his face. "By Steve Rogers."

She smiled at him.

He smiled at her. "Everything."

"What?"

"Everything scares me, Nat. I'm ninety. Give or take. And what old man isn't afraid of everything, when it comes to it? I've lost so many people…watched them die in front of me. There is nothing…nothing that can compare to that. And it scars you," he looked at his hands. "Why do you think that I'm so protective of Bucky? Sure, he's my best friend, but he's also a link to a past that no one else alive can relate to. He's a grounding force in my life," he looked at the window again. "I'm tethered to him because I need to be. Keeps me sane."

"Wow," she breathed.

"So yeah," he looked at her. "What happened yesterday was more than just billions of people disappearing. It was one of my greatest fears realized."

Natasha swallowed. She nodded. "We are all so wrapped in what it did to us…"

"What did it do to you?"

She shook her head…looked out of the window. "Doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"Because I still don't know," she looked at him now. "And whatever happened to me can't compare with what you just said it did to you."

"It isn't a contest, Nat. Your feelings are just as important…"

"My feelings," she laughed.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because I'm not supposed to have feelings."

"But you do."

"Of course I do."

He shrugged. "Then…"

"Tell me something, Steve…"

"Something else?" he sighed, but chuckled a bit.

"Are you lonesome?"

Steve looked at her. She was playing with one of the fruits; fruit that she had no intention of eating. Her eyes were very deliberately looking at him, waiting for him to answer.

Was he lonesome?

Of course he was. In so many ways, he was completely alone, and nothing could change that. How could he not be, really?

Sam tried to help him.

Bucky tried…but Bucky was different, and yet he was so much like him; he had been so sullied by his torture that they, too, were disparate.

His life was so unlike anyone else's, that he was, by his very nature, lonesome.

And Natasha, with her darkness…

He swallowed. She was trying to reach him in a way that not many had. She treated him like a person.

Not a science experiment.

"I …" he sat back.

"You are," she said.

Steve shrugged. "What can be done, really? It's the way it is."

"I'm here, Steve. You're not alone."

"I know. But being alone and being lonely…"

"…are two separate things. Yeah," she smiled.

"Yeah," he nodded. "So…"

"So."

"Thanks for today, Nat. It's been…"

She took his hand. "We're friends. You don't need to thank me. I wanted to do this."

Steve nodded, looking at their hands. He rubbed hers with his thumb. And he thought that he never wanted to leave this spot.

And she felt her heart speed up…She began to take her hand away.

"Don't," he said, tugging at her action. "I …"

Natasha stood, not letting go of his hand, and pulled him to standing. She wrapped her arms around him, and he returned the action. He rested his head on top of hers, and she listened to the steady beat of his heart…"Everything will be ok, I promise," she said, knowing that there was no way she could honestly keep that promise.

He held her tighter…it had been a while…Sharon Carter was the last one two years ago.

And that had been a kiss only. Closeness like this was not something that Captain America did. Ever.

Because he never had.

Steve pulled away, suddenly keenly aware of how close they were. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For…being…"

"Human?" she smiled. "Because that's all it was."

"Presumptuous."

"I hugged you, Rogers."

He swallowed. "Nat, there's something I should tell you. And I've never told anyone. And I'm not even sure why I'm telling you, but somehow it just feels right."

"Ok?"

He sat down.

She sat back in her chair.

"I've never had…" he cleared his throat, not looking at her. "Never…been…"

She smiled, anticipating what he was going to say.

"I loved Peggy."

"I know it."

"But…we were never…"

"Intimate?"

He looked at her and nodded.

"You're a virgin?"

He rolled his eyes and covered his face. "Yes," his voice was muffled.

She smirked. "There's nothing wrong with that, Steve."

He dropped his hands. "No? Ninety five and a virgin. That must be a record."

"Well…that's doubtful."

He smiled.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because…I guess because we were sharing things. You told me things that you've probably only told Clint. And…I dunno. It was the only thing I could offer in return."

"Yes, but why now? I told you that stuff hours ago."

His brow furrowed. "What are you…?"

"Did you think that that hug was going somewhere else? Progressing to something more?"

"What?" he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Natasha…did you think I was trying to…make some move on you?"

"No. But I think it entered your thoughts just now. I don't think it was premeditated."

"I …" he was dumbstruck.

"It's ok, Steve. That, too, is human," she was smiling at him.

"But…"

"You don't always have to be the good and wholesome soldier. You're allowed to be a man."

…and some semblance of honesty crept into his waking thoughts. Maybe he was. Maybe he wanted her. They had had such a day together…and they were such good friends…and maybe he was afraid that he would die in this war, never having experienced that thing. The thing that is altogether human, and simultaneously divine. "Sorry," he choked the word.

"Sorry?"

"I …I think…"

"Steve? Are you all right?"

"No," he replied, standing. "No. And I think I should call it a night."

"What? Why? We need to try that Wakandan wine…"

"Big day tomorrow. And…"

Natasha stood now. "You're embarrassed. Why? Do you think that that has never happened to me before?"

"No. I'm sure it has," he looked at her.

She was gorgeous. Of course it had.

"And do you think that I'm not at all attracted to you?"

He blanched. "I …have no idea."

"Oh my god. Steve. Look at you. I'd have to be dead to not notice."

"Natasha…"

"And besides. You're my best friend. I'd need to at least like you a little," she smiled.

"What about Clint?" he asked her softly, hardly audible.

"Yeah well. Clint didn't just spend the whole day with me getting pissed and sharing things that I'd never tell anyone I didn't love."

He smiled at her. "I remember Tony said that the only special things about me came out of a bottle."

"Yeah?"

"He wasn't wrong. So I've spent the last six or seven years trying to change that."

"You're doing a great job," she laughed.

Steve swallowed.

"Still want to go to bed?" she asked.

His eyes went wide.

"I mean…did you want to go back to your room, alone, and go to sleep. Because, 'Big day tomorrow.' That better?"

"No. But I'm still…"

"I know. You're embarrassed."

He sat down. She sat in her chair. "I'm embarrassed because…" he looked at her. "Because I want to."

Nat sat back. "You want to?"

He nodded. "And you don't. Or at least, I think you'd be opposed because we're friends."

She considered him a moment. "Why do you want to? It's not like…"

"Because we are friends. Because I…I find you attractive. Because I trust you. And I might never have another chance."

"What about me, Rogers?"

"Sorry?"

"What about _me_? What if we do this, and I fall for you? I already love you. What if I fall in love with you? What about my feelings?" she paused. "My heart."

"You're right. You're right," he pounded his fist on the table.

She jumped.

It cracked a little.

"I'm sorry, Steve. It's just that…I dunno. This seems like it could end badly."

"All day long there's been this thing nagging me in the back of my head. It's been whispering something. And it was you. You…" he looked at her. "You and I …"

"You're hearing voices?" she smirked. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "Well. Wine, then," and he got up to get a bottle and two glasses.

She felt badly. She knew that he didn't mean it in any insensitive way. But…given what she had been thinking about earlier, she couldn't trust herself with him in that way.

He brought them back and opened the bottle, pouring out two glasses.

Natasha held the glass. "To us."

And they clinked them together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Night**

"I'm gonna have a headache in the morning," Natasha said, rubbing her forehead and smiling a touch. "Red wine does it to me."

Steve smirked a bit. "Self-fulfilling prophecy, Nat. Take some medicine before bed. You'll be fine," he sipped.

They had polished off two bottles, and it was creeping on midnight.

Nat looked out of the window…it was a deep dark outside, still oddly silent after the previous day's catastrophe. "It's almost tomorrow," she said softly.

He didn't respond. He, too, was looking out of the window, knowing what she meant.

It was almost time to start to deal with whatever they needed to deal with. Almost time to discover if they could ever get back what they'd lost. It was almost time to face the black and terrifying unknown of a reality they had ignored all day.

This day had been about them, and where they had come from. Who they were up until yesterday.

Tomorrow would change everything.

And he rather wished that tomorrow would never come.

Steve emptied the rest of the third bottle into both of their glasses. "Well. Let's drink up. And then hit the sack."

She smiled and watched as he poured. "I don't think I've ever used the phrase 'hit the sack'. Not once," she sipped.

"Always a first time for everything."

"You're like a dictionary for really bad adages," she laughed.

He returned her laugh. "It's a gift."

Natasha wanted to ask him if he thought they'd win tomorrow…or the next day…or whatever or however long this would take. But she knew that there was no way of knowing, and the thought of even mentioning it was abhorrent. It was like she was already letting go of today.

And she didn't want to let go of it.

She didn't know if was because it didn't have Thanos and the unknown in it yet, or if it was because she was with Steve…her best friend. And it had been a wonderful day.

Likely both.

"I don't want this to end," she said softly, a meek smile on her face as she looked at him.

"Are you scared?" he asked, just as quietly.

She nodded.

He took her hand. "I'll make sure you're ok."

"That's a promise you can't keep, Rogers," she took her hand away.

"Yeah. I guess it is."

"But…more than just being scared. I've had a great time," she smiled, looking warmly at him. "It's been a great day."

"It has," he nodded, drinking more.

"How'd we end up here?" she shook her head. "Clint and I …we were together on the battlefield…"

"You and I shared some adventures, wouldn't you say?"

"We are so different, though."

He shrugged. "But oddly the same, too."

"Yeah.." there was a faraway look in her eyes.

"Ever been in love, Nat?" he was conversational in tone.

She snapped out of it, swallowing and forced a smile on her face. "In love?"

"Yeah. You know. Romance and stuff."

"Lemme think…" she looked at the ceiling. "Nope," and she looked at him.

"Not once?"

"Never."

"Huh. That's something I have on you, then."

"Sure, if you're keeping score."

"I'm always keeping score," he smirked. "Ask Tony."

Her face fell, and she swirled the wine in her glass. "I hope he's ok."

He cleared his throat. He supposed that had been insensitive. "If I know Tony, and I think I do, then he's fine."

"He was last seen following that ship in New York."

"Then that might be a good place to start. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she repeated, looking at him. "Well…" she drained her glass and stood.

"Leaving already?" he emptied his own and stood.

"It's late, Steve. And I need to sleep off this wine and food and dancing and conversation. It's been a wonderful day. Simultaneously heavy and light. Just what the doctor ordered," she found some pain killers and swallowed them with a big glass of water.

He watched her. "You're right," he sighed.

"Want some?" she handed him the bottle.

"Nah. I'm fine," he smiled.

And an onerous silence fell between them as they looked steadily at one another. What does one say after everything has been said, but in no hurry to part?

Natasha walked around the counter to where he stood, and she snaked her arms around his waist. "Thank you," she breathed.

"What for?" his arms were around her now.

"For being you," and she pulled away, stood on tiptoe, and pecked his cheek. "Night, Steve," she turned and left him there…

"You're welcome," he said to no one.

* * *

Natasha went to her room, and felt his loss acutely. She changed into shorts and a teeshirt…she hadn't brought many clothes, because she had figured, once they were in Wakanda, she'd be leaving in a day or two. Either on a plane in a seat or in a plane in a box.

She had never considered just how odd it was to constantly be ok with your uncertain death.

Until now.

She could die in the next few days or weeks; and while that's true for everyone, it was always more of a reality for her and the team. And Natasha was always fine with it, because she never had much to live for.

And, as she had told Steve, she sometimes hated herself.

She sat in a small chair by the window…

She did. She sometimes really did. She hated how she was a killing machine, made by bad people. She hated that it took so much for her to trust anyone. She hated that she had never been in love, because she couldn't afford to be, and who would love her, anyway?

And her fright was palpable, because she suddenly realized that never had she been in doubt about a mission…

Until right now.

* * *

He was standing by the small window in his room.

His arms were folded, and he was deep in thought. He was thinking about how he had gotten to this spot.

It had been a strange journey leading here. He was single minded in his purpose, because he needed to be. There was no room for distractions or weaknesses. He was a soldier. What he had always wanted to be.

He had been made…made into something else, but Steve Rogers was still there. Things that Steve had wanted when he was being honest, were in his heart even now. Captain America had eclipsed him for eighty or so years, but Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. And he wanted other things. More things.

More in his life.

He looked at the floor. Everything had always been about the mission. Whatever he needed to be or needed to do was done so that the mission was successful.

He had forgotten himself.

He dropped his arms. Closed his eyes.

And in that moment he saw himself for what he was. Everything that he was. He saw himself, loving Peggy Carter, not because he was a soldier, but because he was human. He saw himself caring for Bucky because he was human…about Sam…and wasn't that what life was about? Isn't that why he did what he did? To save other's people so that they could go on loving them, having lives…

Lives that he was so unfamiliar with.

 _We don't trade lives._

Except the Avengers did all the time. They traded their own lives so that others could have them.

He sighed.

And he sat on his bed.

He wanted to get his friends back. Bring everyone back. He also…

His mind drifted to Natasha.

And he looked back up at the small window.

He didn't know if he could face this mission with everything that she meant to him now. After today. After knowing her better than almost anyone…because he knew she wasn't just some super spy.

She was his best friend.

And he loved her, even if she wouldn't let him.

* * *

She had her robe on, and her hand hovered over the door knob. If she did this thing, there would be no going back. If she took that leap, she would never be the same.

But, she reasoned, that wouldn't really be a bad thing, considering her dubious relationship with herself. Her head went up…she was looking at the ceiling. She sighed.

What if he laughed at her? What if he dismissed her, telling her to go back to bed? What if he told her that they were drunk, nothing he said was real…What if he slept with her and then told her that was it? He was using her to lose his virginity before this war?

But he wouldn't do those things. Because that wasn't who he was.

He was too good.

Maybe too good for her. Maybe she didn't deserve him, after everything that she was. Broken and tainted and ruthless…

Natasha took hold of the knob.

And she inexplicably thought of Bruce, and how not that long ago she might have been thinking about him in this capacity…and how ludicrous that was.

Bruce Banner.

He hardly knew himself.

She smiled, turning the knob.

Steve knew himself. He was reflective. He knew what he wanted…

Banner never would.

Natasha padded down the hall, suddenly realizing that she wasn't sure which room was his, and thinking how awful it would be to walk in on someone else…

She couldn't face the rest of the team knowing about this. Not yet.

She stopped at one door, and listened closely.

No sound.

She licked her lips and went to the next door, another ten feet down. Once more, she placed her ear at the door and listened.

That was Thor. She heard his deep breathing and occasional snore.

She smiled and walked on.

She noticed the door across the hall was lit underneath by what appeared to be a computer light.

Bruce.

She kept moving.

There were two more doors at the end of the hall…she looked at the one on the right. It hadn't been closed fully.

Natasha went to it, her heart was pounding. She wondered if she could peek inside and tell whose room it was.

She placed her hand very gently on the door, being very careful to not make a sound, and pushed so slightly it hardly moved an inch.

She looked inside, in between the door and the jam.

And she saw Steve standing by the window.

She felt her heart pounding against her ribs.

This was it…she swallowed…

She could go back. No one would ever be the wiser…

She held tight to her robe and pushed the door open.

And she closed it behind her.

Steve turned quickly…his breath came fast as he scanned the room in seconds for a weapon before he registered who was in the room.

"Hey," she said.

"Hhhi…" he stammered, regaining himself.

"So…"

He balled his fists, wondering if she was here for what he thought she was.  
What he hoped she was. "Trouble sleeping?"

"Yeah. Sorta."

"Me too."

"You haven't even changed clothes. Looks like you weren't planning on getting much shuteye."

He smiled. "Bad adage."

Natasha swallowed. "Steve…I was thinking."

"That's probably your first mistake."

"Lemme finish."

He nodded.

"I was thinking, you know, about us…" she played with the belt on her terrycloth robe, and started to shift her weight. "And I was thinking, you know, that we have all of these things in common, but still kinda opposite. And that these things fit pretty nicely if you think about it. And that…well…you are my best friend…don't tell Clint…" she added hurriedly. "And we admitted to being, you know, attracted or whatever…and then I started thinking that I've never been afraid of losing anything. Never been really afraid of that much, really. But when I thought about this war…this thing…I was afraid…and then I thought…what am I afraid of? Like, what's different?" she looked at him now, having looked at her feet mostly through her speech. "It's you. You're what's different, Steve. Because…" she swallowed. Her mouth was very dry. "I love you. Like, I'm in love with you already."

He smiled at her. "That was a long speech. You always talk that much?"

She shrugged. "You would know better than me."

Steve took a step toward her.

She dropped her gaze again. "I also need to say that this was really hard for me. I don't admit to things like this easily. And I need you to understand that, so you know, you get where I'm coming from…"

He was in front of her now. "I get it."

She looked up at him and nodded. "Thought you would."

"Natasha?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

"You do?" she smiled broadly.

He nodded, his eyes steadily on hers. "Yeah…and I don't even know for how long. But it feels like I always have, in a way."

"Same here," she said, as he started to wrap his arms around her, and leaned down to her mouth.

"Will you help me?" he whispered.

"Sure. But I bet you'll get the hang of it soon enough…"

And he kissed her, and she opened her mouth…and it was a long drink after a long and beautiful day…


	6. Chapter 6

_This is a "T" rating, but there_ **is** _a part later here that is a bit naughty. Nothing terribly so, but just be warned._

* * *

 **Tomorrow**

Natasha awoke the next morning not knowing where she ended and Steve began. They were a mass of tangled limbs and soft breathing. She was facing the window, and noticed the peels of light coming through…

Tomorrow.

It was the next day.

But she realized that though she was a bit frightened, there wasn't that dread she had had last night before she came to Steve's room.

And she smiled a bit thinking about it.

…he had been so unsure at first, all want and fingers. She had let him go, knowing that he'd be clumsy and untrained.

But when he was ready again, she was more deliberate in guiding him through.

And when the third time happened, he was already a more sensitive lover, and Nat thoroughly enjoyed it.

And again and again…she believed he was insatiable.

She blushed a bit, and began to move. She needed to get up, see what time it was…

They would be meeting soon, and she needed to get to her room to ready herself. So did Steve.

"Steve?" she touched his arm after she disentangled herself. "Steve, it's morning. We need to get up."

He opened his eyes, and smiled at her. "Good morning."

She returned the smile. "Hey. I need to get to my room…and you should get up. We'll be meeting…" she sat up and looked at the clock on his side of the bed. "In just over an hour," it was seven forty five. She really hoped she was up before everyone else. Usually, the team started their days at eight, so she thought she was safe. For now.

It was morning. He rolled onto his back. Looked at the ceiling. "What if we didn't go." It wasn't really a question.

"What?"

"What if we didn't go. What if we left. And just…you know…" he looked at her. "Lived."

She paled and looked at her lap. She had said this to Bruce just a few years ago.

Thank god he had said no. Natasha stood and put her shorts and teeshirt on. "You could live with that? Abandoning the team, when everything is shit?" she sat back next to him, and took his hand.

He squeezed hers. "I dunno. But I think I could live more easily with that than if something happened to you," he paused. "Or even me. Just when we…" he swallowed. "Just when…" he looked at her. "Last night was amazing."

She smiled, played with his fingers. lacing and unlacing them in hers. "Yeah."

"Nat…"

She looked at him.

"I don't want to lose this. And I get why I never did any of this before. It meant that something was more important…"

"…than the mission," she finished. "Yeah. That's why."

He sat up. "I mean, do we pretend that this never happened until it's over, one way or another? Because how can I love you, and put you into danger?"

"You're not putting me into danger, Steve. I do it willingly."

"And what if I stopped you?"

She smiled. "You could try. But it wouldn't work."

He shook his head and stood, pulling on some underwear.

"I'll need to get you some boxer briefs or something. Tighty whities just doesn't do it for me."

He smiled at her and got some pants, putting them on.

She sighed. "Look, Steve. Let's just go to the meeting," she stood and went to him, and placed her hands on his chest. "And see what they say. Maybe we can come up with a not too dangerous plan…"

But he was savoring her touch, as she rubbed circles on his chest. "How can it possibly be safe?" he took her hand in his. "Stay with me."

"Now?" she smirked.

He nodded. He was like an open wound now around her. He was just saying whatever entered his head…like a bleed he could't stopper.

"We can't. We need to…"

"I don't care."

"Yes you do," she took her hand away. "Bucky. And Sam. And we need to find out what happened to Tony."

He sighed. "You're right. What's happening to me, Tasha?"

"Tasha?" she cocked a brow.

"Yeah. I kinda like it better. Everyone else calls you Nat."

She shrugged. "That's true. Tasha it is," and she grabbed her robe.

"So you're leaving," he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I've got to. And you need to get ready, too," she went to him…wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly, then pulled away. "I'll see you in an hour," and she padded over to the door, and slowly opened it, careful not to make a sound.

He sighed as she clicked the door shut, and went to the shower.

* * *

Natasha made it to her room unnoticed. She showered and dressed, and felt ready. Ready for what, exactly, she couldn't rightly say.

But she put on some makeup, brushed her hair, and thought that she'd be ok at the meeting. She just wouldn't look at Steve unless she had to.

But, my god, she loved him. And she wanted so badly to say yes when he suggested that they leave. How incredible would it be to have a small life with him somewhere?

Yet she knew that he'd never be wholly happy if they did nothing to try and reverse what had happened.  
Ignored Thanos.

She put her boots on and checked the time.

It was eight fifty.

Nat opened the door and started to walk to the command center of the royal palace, which meant walking past all of the team's rooms.

And there, to her horror, was Bruce, leaving his room.

"Morning, Nat," he smiled, waiting for her to catch up to him.

"Hey Bruce. Sleep well?"

"Not really."

"No…"

"Did you and Steve have a good day yesterday? Shuri told me that the two of you went into the village to drink and sight see."

She nodded, and as she did, she heard Steve's door open. They had stopped walking just beyond his room. She blanched a bit. "Just what the doctor ordered," she smirked, and turned to see Steve approaching them. "Hey," she widely smiled.

"Hey Tasha. Bruce," he nodded.

"Tasha?" Banner looked between them, slightly smiling.

"Yeah. Na-tasha…? Romanoff?" Steve derisively smiled at him. He never noticed how irritating his face was until that moment.

And he shook himself out of it. There was no competition here. Tasha was with _him._

"Yeah…" Bruce began. "I know…" he shook his head. "Well. Shall we go to the meeting?"

"Let's do it," Steve said, and opened the door to the stairway for them.

"Stop," she hissed as she passed him.

And as they fell into step, he looked at her, eyebrows raised, a look of complete innocence on his face.

Everyone was already there when they got there. Natasha sat deliberately in the back, so she could avoid looking at Steve; or at least, he could avoid looking at her.

Shuri was heading the meeting, as she had done some work yesterday, while Bruce interjected here and there. "I got a message from Tony," he was saying. "He's trying to repair the ship he was on…trying to get back to Earth within the next few days. He's deep in space, on Titan."

Steve finally spoke. "I think we need to get to New York. That's where the other Infinity Stone was…it's as good a place as any to start."

"Should we go to New York City, or the base?" Bruce asked.

"Let's…let's head to the base. We can work from there. Maybe send a couple to New York City once we get to base," he glanced at Tasha.

She hadn't said anything. "So that's our plan?"

"Unless anyone has another," said Steve, looking around.

"We need to get to Titan and kill Thanos," said Thor.

"And we can't do that until Tony gets back…and honestly, I don't think Thanos is on Titan. Tony's there…" Steve looked at Bruce, who nodded. "We need to find out what Tony knows. Find out what other stone was on Earth, and who knows about it. Try to figure out what kind of power these things have, and if there's a way to reverse it. Probably should talk to SHIELD and discover who's left there."

She smiled at him. He really was a natural leader. He would never have been ok with abandoning the team in the middle of this mess. "Let's get to New York," Natasha stood. "We need to start packing. You coming, Shuri?"

"I'll be communicating with you via our means here in Wakanda. Until and unless our King is found, I am the default leader, and cannot abandon my country."

Natasha nodded. "See you all in an hour. I'll try Fury. Maybe Hill. If not, then I'll just contact headquarters," and she left, not able to stay there any longer.

Because she couldn't stop looking at Steve. He was a distraction now.

And she was compromised.

Yet oddly ok with it.

She went to her room and made the bed…began packing her small bag of stuff. She sighed a bit, thinking about the uncertain future.

And she was scared. Because of all she could lose.

But she knew that if anything were to happen, she had had love, and that would need to be enough.

Even if it was for less than twenty four hours.

There was a knock at her door…she swallowed, hoping that it was him.

Natasha opened it, and saw Bruce Banner. "Hey Bruce," she leaned on the door.

"Hey…" he shifted. "Can I …"

"No," she stopped him. "Not a good idea."

He nodded. "So…you and Cap, huh?"

"What?" she smiled.

"Come on, Natasha. I have eyes."

She swallowed. "Does everyone know?"

"I have no idea, but I don't think so," he shifted. "I just wanted to say that I think it's great. And you deserve this."

"Thanks, Bruce," she said softly. "That means a lot."

He nodded. "He's a great guy."

"He is, yeah. And so are you…" she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you on the plane."

Bruce blushed a bit, touched his cheek, and smiled at her. "See you there."

She closed the door and sighed. She felt kinda bad, but not _that_ bad. After all…they were no good. No matter what she thought that she saw.

There was another soft knock…and she thought that Bruce must have forgotten a practical piece of information…

…so when she opened it and saw Steve there, her breath hitched. "Hi," she said, backing into her room. He had a look on his face she couldn't discern.

He closed the door behind him and walked over to her. He leaned over and kissed her ferociously, lifting her into a wrap around him and backing her against the wall. He pushed himself into her, longing for friction, and hearing her moan made him more crazed. His hands pressed into her stomach, over her breasts, and round her ass, all the while he pushing into her, and his kiss was searing.

"Steve…" she breathed, her hands on his chest, gently pushing him.

"What?" he panted.

"We are supposed to be getting ready to go…"

"I'm packed," and he kissed her neck as he pulled her hair gently back to obtain easier access.

"But…" she swallowed…"We need…"

He stopped. "You don't want to do this now."

"We shouldn't."

He nodded, and stepped away from her, his spandex suit slightly betraying his arousal. "Why was Banner here?" Natasha's feet hit the floor.

"He knows."

"Oh. Good," he smiled, sitting in the chair.

"Good?" she smirked, zipping up her bag.

"Yeah. It's better this way. For him."

"What do you mean?"

"This way, I won't need to punch his stupid face for being coy with you," and he stood, as she went to the door.

"Steve, we are a team. He's a good guy. Said he was happy for us."

"Yeah. He's a good guy. One hell of a temper, though."

She opened the door. "We are gonna be all right, Steve," she said softly.

He stopped in front of her. "Yeah. I think you're right."

…and they left the room, unsure of what the day would bring.

But with the assurance that they'd be facing it together.

* * *

 _A/N: so that's it! I hope that you enjoyed it. I don't usually do sequels, but I might consider one here, since it does feel rather like a beginning than an end. Does seem daunting, though...I'd basically be writing Avengers 4. We'll see._

 _Thank you for reading!_


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